FMA fic: "All the Flowers Growing Wild" 2/?
All the Flowers Growing Wild
S J Smith
Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Hiromu Arakawa. Drat it all.
Summary: The flowers always smelled sweetest at the end of summer.
Rating: Let’s go with teen for now.
A.N.: Thanks to cornerofmadness for the edits and attagirls on this story.
A.N. 2: Timeline, what timeline - because this takes place shortly after the whole incident with Scar and Father - but prior to the Brothers Elric actually leaving Central to go north.
Chapter 1: Counting Flowers on the Wall
The sun blared down on Edward’s head. He’d felt overheated since the train had taken them past Dublith. A little pang had gone through him at the chance to meet with their teacher but he and Alphonse had decided to keep her safe or, at least as safe as they could. Avoidance might not be the best idea but it was the one they’d decided on. It wouldn’t work with Winry - she’d already been marked by the Fuhrer himself. Bad enough Bradley had followed Edward to Dublith in an attempt to meet with Izumi, though in retrospect, Edward wondered how the Fuhrer might’ve faired against his teacher.
“Might be one less thing we have to worry about.”
“What’d you say, Ed?” Walking next to him, Winry glanced over.
“Nothin’.” He shook his head in response. With a sigh, he put those thoughts aside and dredged up a smile. “So,” he took a look around, “how long have you been here, Winry?”
“Since yesterday.” Winry had her hands behind her back. “Wait ‘til you see the hotel, Ed. It’s not like those military hotels, at all. There are flowers everywhere and porters to carry your luggage to your room. And elevators!”
“Sounds expensive.” Edward thought the whole town looked ritzy. The whole town seemed cleaner than a lot of the other places he and Al had been to and the buildings looked freshly painted. Huge concrete pots bloomed with bright flowers, the foliage draping over the edges as if the planters were overflowing. Windows glittered in the late afternoon sunlight and signs proudly announced stores and wares. The streets were too clean, like someone had swept them just before the train’s arrival, and the whole place smelled sweet. Edward wanted to knock over one of the planters, just to see what would happen and snickered at the idea of a bunch of white-clad people, brandishing brooms and shovels, yelling at him for making a mess. “What is this place, anyway?” He waved his free hand, inclusively taking in the people, the way too clean streets and the glistening buildings. “What are they trying to prove?”
“It’s a vacation spot, Ed.” Winry was giving him that sidelong look, the one that told him he hadn’t been paying attention and would probably get smacked for it later. “People come here to have a good time.”
“A good time at what, being bored?” He didn’t bother covering his yawn, hearing Winry’s snort of disgust and being secretly pleased by it.
“Didn’t Mr. Mustang tell you anything?” Winry stopped abruptly. “Or did you just ignore him?”
“Eh. The bastard came to the hospital and said,” Edward paused midsentence, seeing Winry’s expression darken.
“Hospital?” Her voice took on a dangerous note. “Why were you in the hospital, Ed? Were you fighting again? Is that how your arm got screwed up?”
Oh, damn. Edward wondered how he’d get out of this one without a couple of new lumps to the head. “My job’s dangerous, Winry, you know that,” he muttered, giving her a look out of the corner of his eye. “I’d rather not talk about it in the street, either.” Anything to keep from drawing attention to them, he realized belatedly, considering that Mustang had set this up for that very purpose.
Face softening, Winry nodded, “I know,” and Edward was reminded she knew all too well how dangerous it was. She’d been right in the middle of that fight with Scar, though only for a small portion of it. He’d hurt her then, had let her see him hurt, something Edward had never wanted Winry to see. He’d told himself he’d never let her see him during a battle and she’d just burst in on it before he’d even realized she was there. If anything had happened to her, Edward thought and shook his head savagely to scatter that musing. Winry was safe or as safe as she could be.
“What’s with that look?” The corners of her mouth turned down, Winry glanced up at Alphonse. “Are you guys keeping secrets again?”
“No, Winry,” Alphonse said at the same time as Edward snorted loudly, saying, “You always figure them out, Miss Nosy.”
“Well,” the word was drawn out, “I guess I have to take your words for it.” The ‘this time’ floated between the trio and Winry started off again, her ponytail twitching.
“Close your mouth, Brother,” Alphonse said, in a voice as dry as a desert, “and stop staring at Winry’s backside.”
* * *
The message had been succinct, tucked in the stupid flowers that the stupid Colonel Bastard had left in his room - ‘Go to Conway immediately on the South Central line. You’ll meet someone there to help you.’ The tickets had hammered the point home even more. Edward followed the order reluctantly, knowing at this time, he had no choice. It was either be under the magnifying glass in Central or do his best to get out of sight for a little while. Dragging Winry into it certainly hadn’t been part of his plans but she was right - he needed work done to his automail and if he couldn’t - shouldn’t - go to her, it was best they meet somewhere.
The hotel Winry led them to was, Edward thought, far more expensive than necessary. What was the bastard trying to do, announce that he was in town? “Relax,” Winry said, “it’s in my name.”
“That’s even worse! How’s it going to look, reservations in your name?”
Winry raised an eyebrow at him and Edward almost - almost! - quailed at that expression. “Why?” Her eye twitched and Edward braced himself for a wrench upside his skull. “What sort of dirty thoughts are in your head, Edward?”
Alphonse snickered as Edward garbled out a plea in his own defense; that he was really looking out for her reputation. He thought she might believe it then her face twisted in irritation. “I’m a mechanic, Edward. You’re my customer. Why would anyone have a problem with us sharing a room? What if something happened and you needed specific care? That’s the reputation I’m worried about.” She flounced up the hotel steps, leaving the brothers behind.
“Brother,” Alphonse sighed.
Edward sighed. “I know, I know. Close my mouth.”
“And stop staring at Winry’s backside.”
* * *
There were so many pretty flowers. So many. They drifted along the streets, all in brilliant hues, each one more delectable than the last. The birds sang around them, almost seemed to court the beauties. Take the silver alyssum, head bobbing slightly in the breeze, the bright chrysanthemum in cheerful accompaniment. Or the tiny dandelion, matched with a taller one of the same species. A glorious bouquet, all waiting for the harvest. They had to be plucked at just the right time, though, otherwise they’d go to seed.
So many pretty flowers. He just had to decide which one he should pick next.
* * *
Winry felt justified in her comments to the brothers when they stared slackjaw at the room. Well, Ed’s mouth hung open. Al…didn’t have a jaw but still managed to give that impression. Maybe it was the way the horsehair crest on his helmet sort of shocked up, like a cat’s tail. “Wow, Winry.” Alphonse turned in a slow circle in almost the center of the main living area. “This is ours?”
“Uh huh.” Winry folded her arms, grinning. “I took that room over there.” She nodded at the doorway off to the left. “I figured you guys should have the big bedroom, since you’ll stay together. The bathroom’s over there, Ed.” Pleased with their reactions, Winry studied the room with new eyes. It was actually a suite, with the two bedrooms and private bath, and a tiny kitchen with an ice box and two burner stove. The main room had both an area for dining and an area for entertaining, separated by a low wall. Some art, a painting of a vase full of flowers and another of flowers strewn across a table, decorated the walls near the sofa. The colors were comfortably bland; blues and creams and greys; and Winry wondered if she should order in some rags, in case she had to totally tear down Edward’s arm. She’d hate to get dirty oil or grease ground into any of the fabric. Of course, with two alchemists, they could probably transmute anything out of the fabric but it never did to rely on anyone else. Winry had her own work shop rags she’d brought with her but who ever knew if they’d be enough.
Ed pushed through the master bedroom door and Winry heard him toss his suitcase onto the bed. He came out almost immediately afterward, stripping off the brown jacket he wore instead of his long red coat. Winry wondered about that. Ed had his coat the last time she’d seen him; it had been damaged in that fight - and Winry managed not to shiver at the memory of that - but he still had it. Edward Elric wasn’t exactly someone to change his wardrobe. That he didn’t have his red jacket was more than a little surprise.
“What?” He froze in midstep, one hand tangled up in his hair as he scratched at the braid.
“Nothing.” Winry wasn’t going to ask any more than she’d ask about why Ed was in the hospital prior to coming to Conway. She wanted to know, she didn’t want to know. It was confusing. At least they’d kept their promise to her. They were still alive, no matter what had happened.
“Okay,” Ed glanced toward Alphonse, sharing a look with his brother. “Look, I’m starving. Let’s go find some food, okay?” He turned his attention back to Winry, giving her a tentative smile.
“Yeah.” Winry answered with her own grin. “I’d like that, Ed.”
“While you two do that, I think I’ll go to the library,” Al said.
“Huh?” Edward’s smile faded. “What’s up, Al?”
“Well, you know. I can’t eat.” Shrugging made his shoulder plates rattle. “It makes sense. I mean, we were told to come here and I could get some research in while you two go eat.”
“I can wait to eat,” Ed began but Al stopped him by raising his palm.
“Your stomach is growling. I can hear it. Go get something to eat.” He pushed Ed toward the door. “Take Winry someplace nice, Brother.”
“But Al, you should come, too,” Winry patted his forearm. She could swear he rolled his eyes at her.
“No, you two go and have fun.” Al sounded determined to make them go without him, Winry thought. “I’ll just be a nuisance.”
Ed winced and tried to cover it up by snarling up at his brother. “You’re not a nuisance.”
“No, Al.” Winry took his hand, tugging on it. “You should come with us. You need to relax, too. We’ll have a good time.”
Sighing, Alphonse nodded. “All right, I’ll go with you guys.” Winry pulled him out of the room while Edward locked the door behind them.
* * *
Jeez, Alphonse thought, his brother and Winry were incredibly stubborn. And, he hated to say it, completely clueless. Now that they’d convinced him to go with them to dinner, they were walking ahead of him, lost in their own little squabble. Winry was telling Edward that she wanted to tear down his arm as soon as they finished eating, while Edward was whining back that it could wait a little while so they could go check out the library. As if Edward wouldn’t get lost in a pile of books. And would Winry be content in a library? Well, maybe if there were magazines on automail that she didn’t have in Rush Valley - but how could that be possible? The ‘Boom Town of the Broken Down’ was more likely to have all the current magazines and other publications on automail, so Winry would’ve left that bounty behind to come here. Alphonse wondered if he should instead be suggesting to the bickering pair that maybe they should look at fun things to do in the town, though he doubted that would go over well. At least, not yet. Though Colonel Mustang had suggested (on the sly, of course, since Brother would’ve taken any of this with a screaming fit that would’ve lasted all the way from Central to Conway), that Alphonse connive to get Edward and Winry on one of the little boats for a nighttime cruise, Alphonse wasn’t sure that would happen. His brother and water were not a very good mix - if the boats were as small as he imagined, one might tip easily and send Edward straight to the bottom from the weight of his automail.
Maybe this was simply a bad idea. Maybe he should suggest Winry work on Edward’s arm, fix the problem, and return to Rush Valley. He and Edward could go somewhere else instead. But Alphonse genuinely liked spending time with Winry. She was one of the few people who could keep his brother in line. And, Alphonse knew, Edward would appreciate this time with her, even if he didn’t say anything. Alphonse didn’t want to think about how long it might be before they saw her again.
“Why don’t we stop there?” Alphonse pointed at a restaurant with some tables set outside and warm lights brightening the late afternoon dusk. More of those planters full of flowers were arranged around the tables, almost forming a little barricade against passersby. A few couples sat at the tables, seeming to be enjoying their meals or at least staring into each other’s eyes, not that Alphonse expected his brother and Winry to suddenly come to their senses and realize what everyone else had.
Breaking off in the middle of the argument, Edward took an appreciative sniff of the air. “Smells good.” He started forward only to stop abruptly. “This is okay, huh, Winry?”
Eyebrows shooting into her bangs, Winry remained completely still for a few seconds before nodding agreeably. “Yeah.” She grinned, first at Edward then up at Alphonse. “If it’s okay with Al.”
“You two are the ones who’ll be eating.” Alphonse held up his hands to stop that thought right there. “I’ll just be refereeing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Edward scowled at him and Alphonse pointed back in response.
“You know exactly what I mean, Brother.”
“Oh, come on, Ed.” Winry walked past him, her skirt flouncing, and Alphonse saw his brother’s eyes glaze over again. “I’m hungry. Let’s get something to eat.”
“Uh, huh.” Edward followed her and Alphonse followed him, shaking his head mentally. Winry had chosen an outside table, sitting next to one of those massive flowerpots. Alphonse thought it made a pretty picture; her upper body framed by the flowers behind her. He wondered if his brother even noticed as he flung himself into the chair opposite Winry, leaning an elbow on the table and cupping his chin in his palm. A waiter, dressed in a rich, golden brown uniform with a white shirt underneath, appeared to offer them menus and collect their drink orders before whisking back inside the restaurant.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Winry tucked her hands in her lap, her eyes bright as she glanced past Alphonse to the street.
“Smells really clean.” Edward’s half-lidded eyes meant he was either bored or sleepy. Alphonse doubted Edward would be eyeing Winry across the table. “Too clean.” He sat up abruptly, coming back to life as the waiter placed drinks on the table. Smiling, Edward closed his mouth around the straw, sucking in delight.
Winry rolled her eyes in Alphonse’s general direction and he shrugged. Edward’s manners weren’t the best, definitely, but what was he going to do? Smack him on the back of his head while they were actually at the restaurant? Edward didn’t get embarrassed about such things for that to be an effective learning tool. After taking a deliberate sip of her own drink, Winry set it in the center of the table. “Do you know what you want to eat, Ed?”
“Whu?” Edward blinked at her. “I guess a sandwich.” His stomach growled, almost as if in response. Lower lip stuck out, he grumbled, “You two can stop laughing now.”
“If you’re hungry, Ed, order more than just a sandwich.” Alphonse tuned Winry out as she pointed out some of the other menu items to Edward, listening instead to the ebb and flow of the city around them. Each city had its own particular sound, Alphonse had found, and Conway was no exception. Of course, every city had similarities but not all cities had the same things in them to make the same sorts of sounds. Conway, if he concentrated, had the faint gurgle of water, not just from the fountains that splashed and played at intervals in the street, but from a lake and Alphonse would suppose a stream or a river that fed said lake. While there was the hum of engines, indicating cars operated within the city, Alphonse could also pick up the clip clop of horses’ hooves along with the squeak of wagon wheels.
He didn’t like considering how it was he could hear without ears. Did souls hear? And if so, how? It really could give him a headache, trying to think about it, if he had a way to get a headache. He could see, he could hear, he could speak, he could move. He wasn’t some sort of wind up toy or automaton; he was a person, just completely trapped inside of steel, with a body trapped elsewhere. Turning his attention back to Winry, Alphonse again admired her. The hanging lanterns warmed her hair, giving it a hue nearly the same shade as his brother’s. The lights lent a sparkle to her eyes, not that she really needed any enhancement. As if she felt his regard, the smile she gave him had a crook in it. “What is it, Al?”
He prepared to answer, choosing and disgarding responses almost as fast as they came to mind. “Uh….”
“Cat got your tongue, Al?” Edward socked him on the arm, making the armor boom softly. “Wait, you don’t have a cat in there, do you?”
His reply was lost when a young man shoved up to their table, rocking it. Edward snatched at his drink, snarling out a curse when it spilled. Winry’s glass bounced once and splashed, covering her in pink liquid. Whirling up out of his chair, Edward grabbed the man’s clothes. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”
“Ed!”
“Brother.” Alphonse noticed the staring expression on the young man’s face, catching hold of Edward’s shoulders. “Let him go.”
“Look, man,” his teeth bared, Edward turned to wave at Winry, “you got my friend wet.”
“I’m sorry,” the young man caught Edward’s wrists, pushing at them, “I thought she was someone else.”
“Yeah? Even if she was, that doesn’t mean you get to barge right up on top of her.” Edward shoved the guy off of him as a flurry of waiters descended from the restaurant.
“What seems to be the trouble, sir?” one of them asked as two of the others caught hold of the young man. Sullen, he glared at the sidewalk. Alphonse was a little surprised at how uniform the waiters looked. He couldn’t be sure which one had originally come to their table to collect their orders.
“This guy rammed into our table and spilled our drinks.” Edward’s mouth turned down at the sight of Winry trying to wipe the worst of the liquid off with her napkin. “Let me take care of it, Winry.”
“Oh, no.” Standing up, she shook her head, tossing her napkin on the table. “I can just imagine what you’d do to my clothes. I’ll just go back to the hotel and clean up. You and Al can bring something for me to eat, if that’s okay.”
“Whatever you want, Winry.” Alphonse considered quickly. “Or Brother can walk you back and I’ll bring food for both of you.”
“I’m sorry,” the young man said, looking at Winry through his bangs, reminding Alphonse of Edward’s habit. “I didn’t mean to,” his voice trailed off and he shook his head.
“It was an accident.” Winry’s glare made one of the waiters take a step back. “Let him go.”
“Winry,” Edward began and she fixed him with a glower that shut his mouth.
Grabbing Edward’s arm, she tugged him closer. “Look at him, Ed. It was a mistake. He’s obviously sorry.” Winry’s mouth pursed and her eyes narrowed. “Hey, mister. Are you okay?”
He raised his head at her question, quickly rubbing the heel of his hand across his eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered in a muffled voice. “I just want to find her.”
“Find who?” Edward always sounded so impatient, Alphonse thought, and crossing his arms like that didn’t improve the question any.
“Anne. My girlfriend.” Shoulders slumping, the young man nodded at Winry. “I apologize again, miss. It was a natural mistake. You and Anne have the same coloring.”
When they were younger, they were able to communicate without speaking; a one-shouldered shrug and the tilt of an eyebrow, along with a slight hand gesture could almost tell an entire story. Alphonse realized Winry was doing that now, her head cocked to the side as she met his and Edward’s gaze, her eyebrows rising questioningly. Edward’s mouth tightened for an instant but he raised his hands in response to Winry’s narrowed eyes. It didn’t surprise Alphonse at all when Winry turned back to the stranger. “What happened to Anne?”
He shook his head. “I wish I knew. We came to this town a week ago.” With a sickly little smile, he went on. “I haven’t seen her for three days.”
* * * Chapter Three
S J Smith
Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Hiromu Arakawa. Drat it all.
Summary: The flowers always smelled sweetest at the end of summer.
Rating: Let’s go with teen for now.
A.N.: Thanks to cornerofmadness for the edits and attagirls on this story.
A.N. 2: Timeline, what timeline - because this takes place shortly after the whole incident with Scar and Father - but prior to the Brothers Elric actually leaving Central to go north.
Chapter 1: Counting Flowers on the Wall
The sun blared down on Edward’s head. He’d felt overheated since the train had taken them past Dublith. A little pang had gone through him at the chance to meet with their teacher but he and Alphonse had decided to keep her safe or, at least as safe as they could. Avoidance might not be the best idea but it was the one they’d decided on. It wouldn’t work with Winry - she’d already been marked by the Fuhrer himself. Bad enough Bradley had followed Edward to Dublith in an attempt to meet with Izumi, though in retrospect, Edward wondered how the Fuhrer might’ve faired against his teacher.
“Might be one less thing we have to worry about.”
“What’d you say, Ed?” Walking next to him, Winry glanced over.
“Nothin’.” He shook his head in response. With a sigh, he put those thoughts aside and dredged up a smile. “So,” he took a look around, “how long have you been here, Winry?”
“Since yesterday.” Winry had her hands behind her back. “Wait ‘til you see the hotel, Ed. It’s not like those military hotels, at all. There are flowers everywhere and porters to carry your luggage to your room. And elevators!”
“Sounds expensive.” Edward thought the whole town looked ritzy. The whole town seemed cleaner than a lot of the other places he and Al had been to and the buildings looked freshly painted. Huge concrete pots bloomed with bright flowers, the foliage draping over the edges as if the planters were overflowing. Windows glittered in the late afternoon sunlight and signs proudly announced stores and wares. The streets were too clean, like someone had swept them just before the train’s arrival, and the whole place smelled sweet. Edward wanted to knock over one of the planters, just to see what would happen and snickered at the idea of a bunch of white-clad people, brandishing brooms and shovels, yelling at him for making a mess. “What is this place, anyway?” He waved his free hand, inclusively taking in the people, the way too clean streets and the glistening buildings. “What are they trying to prove?”
“It’s a vacation spot, Ed.” Winry was giving him that sidelong look, the one that told him he hadn’t been paying attention and would probably get smacked for it later. “People come here to have a good time.”
“A good time at what, being bored?” He didn’t bother covering his yawn, hearing Winry’s snort of disgust and being secretly pleased by it.
“Didn’t Mr. Mustang tell you anything?” Winry stopped abruptly. “Or did you just ignore him?”
“Eh. The bastard came to the hospital and said,” Edward paused midsentence, seeing Winry’s expression darken.
“Hospital?” Her voice took on a dangerous note. “Why were you in the hospital, Ed? Were you fighting again? Is that how your arm got screwed up?”
Oh, damn. Edward wondered how he’d get out of this one without a couple of new lumps to the head. “My job’s dangerous, Winry, you know that,” he muttered, giving her a look out of the corner of his eye. “I’d rather not talk about it in the street, either.” Anything to keep from drawing attention to them, he realized belatedly, considering that Mustang had set this up for that very purpose.
Face softening, Winry nodded, “I know,” and Edward was reminded she knew all too well how dangerous it was. She’d been right in the middle of that fight with Scar, though only for a small portion of it. He’d hurt her then, had let her see him hurt, something Edward had never wanted Winry to see. He’d told himself he’d never let her see him during a battle and she’d just burst in on it before he’d even realized she was there. If anything had happened to her, Edward thought and shook his head savagely to scatter that musing. Winry was safe or as safe as she could be.
“What’s with that look?” The corners of her mouth turned down, Winry glanced up at Alphonse. “Are you guys keeping secrets again?”
“No, Winry,” Alphonse said at the same time as Edward snorted loudly, saying, “You always figure them out, Miss Nosy.”
“Well,” the word was drawn out, “I guess I have to take your words for it.” The ‘this time’ floated between the trio and Winry started off again, her ponytail twitching.
“Close your mouth, Brother,” Alphonse said, in a voice as dry as a desert, “and stop staring at Winry’s backside.”
* * *
The message had been succinct, tucked in the stupid flowers that the stupid Colonel Bastard had left in his room - ‘Go to Conway immediately on the South Central line. You’ll meet someone there to help you.’ The tickets had hammered the point home even more. Edward followed the order reluctantly, knowing at this time, he had no choice. It was either be under the magnifying glass in Central or do his best to get out of sight for a little while. Dragging Winry into it certainly hadn’t been part of his plans but she was right - he needed work done to his automail and if he couldn’t - shouldn’t - go to her, it was best they meet somewhere.
The hotel Winry led them to was, Edward thought, far more expensive than necessary. What was the bastard trying to do, announce that he was in town? “Relax,” Winry said, “it’s in my name.”
“That’s even worse! How’s it going to look, reservations in your name?”
Winry raised an eyebrow at him and Edward almost - almost! - quailed at that expression. “Why?” Her eye twitched and Edward braced himself for a wrench upside his skull. “What sort of dirty thoughts are in your head, Edward?”
Alphonse snickered as Edward garbled out a plea in his own defense; that he was really looking out for her reputation. He thought she might believe it then her face twisted in irritation. “I’m a mechanic, Edward. You’re my customer. Why would anyone have a problem with us sharing a room? What if something happened and you needed specific care? That’s the reputation I’m worried about.” She flounced up the hotel steps, leaving the brothers behind.
“Brother,” Alphonse sighed.
Edward sighed. “I know, I know. Close my mouth.”
“And stop staring at Winry’s backside.”
* * *
There were so many pretty flowers. So many. They drifted along the streets, all in brilliant hues, each one more delectable than the last. The birds sang around them, almost seemed to court the beauties. Take the silver alyssum, head bobbing slightly in the breeze, the bright chrysanthemum in cheerful accompaniment. Or the tiny dandelion, matched with a taller one of the same species. A glorious bouquet, all waiting for the harvest. They had to be plucked at just the right time, though, otherwise they’d go to seed.
So many pretty flowers. He just had to decide which one he should pick next.
* * *
Winry felt justified in her comments to the brothers when they stared slackjaw at the room. Well, Ed’s mouth hung open. Al…didn’t have a jaw but still managed to give that impression. Maybe it was the way the horsehair crest on his helmet sort of shocked up, like a cat’s tail. “Wow, Winry.” Alphonse turned in a slow circle in almost the center of the main living area. “This is ours?”
“Uh huh.” Winry folded her arms, grinning. “I took that room over there.” She nodded at the doorway off to the left. “I figured you guys should have the big bedroom, since you’ll stay together. The bathroom’s over there, Ed.” Pleased with their reactions, Winry studied the room with new eyes. It was actually a suite, with the two bedrooms and private bath, and a tiny kitchen with an ice box and two burner stove. The main room had both an area for dining and an area for entertaining, separated by a low wall. Some art, a painting of a vase full of flowers and another of flowers strewn across a table, decorated the walls near the sofa. The colors were comfortably bland; blues and creams and greys; and Winry wondered if she should order in some rags, in case she had to totally tear down Edward’s arm. She’d hate to get dirty oil or grease ground into any of the fabric. Of course, with two alchemists, they could probably transmute anything out of the fabric but it never did to rely on anyone else. Winry had her own work shop rags she’d brought with her but who ever knew if they’d be enough.
Ed pushed through the master bedroom door and Winry heard him toss his suitcase onto the bed. He came out almost immediately afterward, stripping off the brown jacket he wore instead of his long red coat. Winry wondered about that. Ed had his coat the last time she’d seen him; it had been damaged in that fight - and Winry managed not to shiver at the memory of that - but he still had it. Edward Elric wasn’t exactly someone to change his wardrobe. That he didn’t have his red jacket was more than a little surprise.
“What?” He froze in midstep, one hand tangled up in his hair as he scratched at the braid.
“Nothing.” Winry wasn’t going to ask any more than she’d ask about why Ed was in the hospital prior to coming to Conway. She wanted to know, she didn’t want to know. It was confusing. At least they’d kept their promise to her. They were still alive, no matter what had happened.
“Okay,” Ed glanced toward Alphonse, sharing a look with his brother. “Look, I’m starving. Let’s go find some food, okay?” He turned his attention back to Winry, giving her a tentative smile.
“Yeah.” Winry answered with her own grin. “I’d like that, Ed.”
“While you two do that, I think I’ll go to the library,” Al said.
“Huh?” Edward’s smile faded. “What’s up, Al?”
“Well, you know. I can’t eat.” Shrugging made his shoulder plates rattle. “It makes sense. I mean, we were told to come here and I could get some research in while you two go eat.”
“I can wait to eat,” Ed began but Al stopped him by raising his palm.
“Your stomach is growling. I can hear it. Go get something to eat.” He pushed Ed toward the door. “Take Winry someplace nice, Brother.”
“But Al, you should come, too,” Winry patted his forearm. She could swear he rolled his eyes at her.
“No, you two go and have fun.” Al sounded determined to make them go without him, Winry thought. “I’ll just be a nuisance.”
Ed winced and tried to cover it up by snarling up at his brother. “You’re not a nuisance.”
“No, Al.” Winry took his hand, tugging on it. “You should come with us. You need to relax, too. We’ll have a good time.”
Sighing, Alphonse nodded. “All right, I’ll go with you guys.” Winry pulled him out of the room while Edward locked the door behind them.
* * *
Jeez, Alphonse thought, his brother and Winry were incredibly stubborn. And, he hated to say it, completely clueless. Now that they’d convinced him to go with them to dinner, they were walking ahead of him, lost in their own little squabble. Winry was telling Edward that she wanted to tear down his arm as soon as they finished eating, while Edward was whining back that it could wait a little while so they could go check out the library. As if Edward wouldn’t get lost in a pile of books. And would Winry be content in a library? Well, maybe if there were magazines on automail that she didn’t have in Rush Valley - but how could that be possible? The ‘Boom Town of the Broken Down’ was more likely to have all the current magazines and other publications on automail, so Winry would’ve left that bounty behind to come here. Alphonse wondered if he should instead be suggesting to the bickering pair that maybe they should look at fun things to do in the town, though he doubted that would go over well. At least, not yet. Though Colonel Mustang had suggested (on the sly, of course, since Brother would’ve taken any of this with a screaming fit that would’ve lasted all the way from Central to Conway), that Alphonse connive to get Edward and Winry on one of the little boats for a nighttime cruise, Alphonse wasn’t sure that would happen. His brother and water were not a very good mix - if the boats were as small as he imagined, one might tip easily and send Edward straight to the bottom from the weight of his automail.
Maybe this was simply a bad idea. Maybe he should suggest Winry work on Edward’s arm, fix the problem, and return to Rush Valley. He and Edward could go somewhere else instead. But Alphonse genuinely liked spending time with Winry. She was one of the few people who could keep his brother in line. And, Alphonse knew, Edward would appreciate this time with her, even if he didn’t say anything. Alphonse didn’t want to think about how long it might be before they saw her again.
“Why don’t we stop there?” Alphonse pointed at a restaurant with some tables set outside and warm lights brightening the late afternoon dusk. More of those planters full of flowers were arranged around the tables, almost forming a little barricade against passersby. A few couples sat at the tables, seeming to be enjoying their meals or at least staring into each other’s eyes, not that Alphonse expected his brother and Winry to suddenly come to their senses and realize what everyone else had.
Breaking off in the middle of the argument, Edward took an appreciative sniff of the air. “Smells good.” He started forward only to stop abruptly. “This is okay, huh, Winry?”
Eyebrows shooting into her bangs, Winry remained completely still for a few seconds before nodding agreeably. “Yeah.” She grinned, first at Edward then up at Alphonse. “If it’s okay with Al.”
“You two are the ones who’ll be eating.” Alphonse held up his hands to stop that thought right there. “I’ll just be refereeing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Edward scowled at him and Alphonse pointed back in response.
“You know exactly what I mean, Brother.”
“Oh, come on, Ed.” Winry walked past him, her skirt flouncing, and Alphonse saw his brother’s eyes glaze over again. “I’m hungry. Let’s get something to eat.”
“Uh, huh.” Edward followed her and Alphonse followed him, shaking his head mentally. Winry had chosen an outside table, sitting next to one of those massive flowerpots. Alphonse thought it made a pretty picture; her upper body framed by the flowers behind her. He wondered if his brother even noticed as he flung himself into the chair opposite Winry, leaning an elbow on the table and cupping his chin in his palm. A waiter, dressed in a rich, golden brown uniform with a white shirt underneath, appeared to offer them menus and collect their drink orders before whisking back inside the restaurant.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Winry tucked her hands in her lap, her eyes bright as she glanced past Alphonse to the street.
“Smells really clean.” Edward’s half-lidded eyes meant he was either bored or sleepy. Alphonse doubted Edward would be eyeing Winry across the table. “Too clean.” He sat up abruptly, coming back to life as the waiter placed drinks on the table. Smiling, Edward closed his mouth around the straw, sucking in delight.
Winry rolled her eyes in Alphonse’s general direction and he shrugged. Edward’s manners weren’t the best, definitely, but what was he going to do? Smack him on the back of his head while they were actually at the restaurant? Edward didn’t get embarrassed about such things for that to be an effective learning tool. After taking a deliberate sip of her own drink, Winry set it in the center of the table. “Do you know what you want to eat, Ed?”
“Whu?” Edward blinked at her. “I guess a sandwich.” His stomach growled, almost as if in response. Lower lip stuck out, he grumbled, “You two can stop laughing now.”
“If you’re hungry, Ed, order more than just a sandwich.” Alphonse tuned Winry out as she pointed out some of the other menu items to Edward, listening instead to the ebb and flow of the city around them. Each city had its own particular sound, Alphonse had found, and Conway was no exception. Of course, every city had similarities but not all cities had the same things in them to make the same sorts of sounds. Conway, if he concentrated, had the faint gurgle of water, not just from the fountains that splashed and played at intervals in the street, but from a lake and Alphonse would suppose a stream or a river that fed said lake. While there was the hum of engines, indicating cars operated within the city, Alphonse could also pick up the clip clop of horses’ hooves along with the squeak of wagon wheels.
He didn’t like considering how it was he could hear without ears. Did souls hear? And if so, how? It really could give him a headache, trying to think about it, if he had a way to get a headache. He could see, he could hear, he could speak, he could move. He wasn’t some sort of wind up toy or automaton; he was a person, just completely trapped inside of steel, with a body trapped elsewhere. Turning his attention back to Winry, Alphonse again admired her. The hanging lanterns warmed her hair, giving it a hue nearly the same shade as his brother’s. The lights lent a sparkle to her eyes, not that she really needed any enhancement. As if she felt his regard, the smile she gave him had a crook in it. “What is it, Al?”
He prepared to answer, choosing and disgarding responses almost as fast as they came to mind. “Uh….”
“Cat got your tongue, Al?” Edward socked him on the arm, making the armor boom softly. “Wait, you don’t have a cat in there, do you?”
His reply was lost when a young man shoved up to their table, rocking it. Edward snatched at his drink, snarling out a curse when it spilled. Winry’s glass bounced once and splashed, covering her in pink liquid. Whirling up out of his chair, Edward grabbed the man’s clothes. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”
“Ed!”
“Brother.” Alphonse noticed the staring expression on the young man’s face, catching hold of Edward’s shoulders. “Let him go.”
“Look, man,” his teeth bared, Edward turned to wave at Winry, “you got my friend wet.”
“I’m sorry,” the young man caught Edward’s wrists, pushing at them, “I thought she was someone else.”
“Yeah? Even if she was, that doesn’t mean you get to barge right up on top of her.” Edward shoved the guy off of him as a flurry of waiters descended from the restaurant.
“What seems to be the trouble, sir?” one of them asked as two of the others caught hold of the young man. Sullen, he glared at the sidewalk. Alphonse was a little surprised at how uniform the waiters looked. He couldn’t be sure which one had originally come to their table to collect their orders.
“This guy rammed into our table and spilled our drinks.” Edward’s mouth turned down at the sight of Winry trying to wipe the worst of the liquid off with her napkin. “Let me take care of it, Winry.”
“Oh, no.” Standing up, she shook her head, tossing her napkin on the table. “I can just imagine what you’d do to my clothes. I’ll just go back to the hotel and clean up. You and Al can bring something for me to eat, if that’s okay.”
“Whatever you want, Winry.” Alphonse considered quickly. “Or Brother can walk you back and I’ll bring food for both of you.”
“I’m sorry,” the young man said, looking at Winry through his bangs, reminding Alphonse of Edward’s habit. “I didn’t mean to,” his voice trailed off and he shook his head.
“It was an accident.” Winry’s glare made one of the waiters take a step back. “Let him go.”
“Winry,” Edward began and she fixed him with a glower that shut his mouth.
Grabbing Edward’s arm, she tugged him closer. “Look at him, Ed. It was a mistake. He’s obviously sorry.” Winry’s mouth pursed and her eyes narrowed. “Hey, mister. Are you okay?”
He raised his head at her question, quickly rubbing the heel of his hand across his eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered in a muffled voice. “I just want to find her.”
“Find who?” Edward always sounded so impatient, Alphonse thought, and crossing his arms like that didn’t improve the question any.
“Anne. My girlfriend.” Shoulders slumping, the young man nodded at Winry. “I apologize again, miss. It was a natural mistake. You and Anne have the same coloring.”
When they were younger, they were able to communicate without speaking; a one-shouldered shrug and the tilt of an eyebrow, along with a slight hand gesture could almost tell an entire story. Alphonse realized Winry was doing that now, her head cocked to the side as she met his and Edward’s gaze, her eyebrows rising questioningly. Edward’s mouth tightened for an instant but he raised his hands in response to Winry’s narrowed eyes. It didn’t surprise Alphonse at all when Winry turned back to the stranger. “What happened to Anne?”
He shook his head. “I wish I knew. We came to this town a week ago.” With a sickly little smile, he went on. “I haven’t seen her for three days.”
* * * Chapter Three